My Crew
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: Chakotay breaks the news to Voyager's former Maquis; the war is over, and all of their friends back home are dead or in prison. One-shot, one scene. A scene that (in some form or another) should have been in "Hunters," Season 4.


**I don't own "Star Trek: Voyager."**

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Chakotay sent a private message to each former Maquis crewmember, ordering that they attend a conference in the Mess Hall that night. Some of them already knew—the few who'd received letters from home, or friends who'd talked to them. Crewmen whispered and chattered amongst themselves, as they waited for the last few people to show up. Chakotay and B'Elanna stood in Neelix's kitchen, observing. B'Elanna's arms were folded, as she scanned her friends, stone-faced. Chakotay leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. B'Elanna glanced at him. As Chell and Tabor, the last two people, entered the Mess Hall, she gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze, and they stepped out to face their old shipmates.

His old crew was silent, every pair of eyes fixed on Chakotay. Chakotay's black eyes darted around the crowd, and he gave a small sigh.

"Well…might as well get this said and done with." It took another moment for any words to come out. "I…received a letter. From home." He produced a PADD. "Sveta, the woman who recruited me into the Maquis." Another long pause. "The war's over. We lost. There are no more Maquis. The Cardassians gained a new ally from the Gama Quadrant called the Dominion. They… wiped out most of the members of the Maquis, before declaring war on the entire Alpha Quadrant. A few lucky ones, like my friend Sveta, are in prison. The rest," the faces of his crew made him hesitate again. "All dead."

For what felt like several minutes there was no sound from anyone. Chakotay watched Chell's blue face fall, as he stared at Chakotay. Crewman Jor leaned in on the Bajoran Crewman Tabor, who hooked his arm around her. Chakotay glanced from one old friend to another, viewing their reactions. Miguel Ayala swallowing; T'Vorah's eyes darting about thoughtfully, as she took in the news; Emilia Le Fleur, with tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Ayala finally broke the silence. "Is there any information on who survived?"

Chakotay breathed deeply, and swapped a glance with B'Elanna, who's arms were still tightly folded. He looked back down at his PADD. "Sveta was able to give me a handful of names she heard, some cells or crews who managed to escape. Ro Laren, Thomas Riker…" he began reading off the information. He saw the relief on a few faces, while others fell harder.

T'Vora, Voyager's only female Vulcan, spoke up from the back of the room. "Has Captain Janeway been informed?"

Chakotay nodded. "Yes. I told her just an hour ago."

"Does she care?" Kenneth Dalby demanded bitterly.

"Yes she cares!" Chakotay barked.

Seeing he'd startled some of them, he blinked, and softened his voice. "The Captain and I…agreed I should tell you all in private. The captain's preparing a few words herself, for the entire crew. She's going to make sure the entire ship knows what y…what we're going through right now."

"It's a ship-wide moral crisis." Gerron, the young Bajoran, said thoughtfully. "It's gonna be hard on _her_."

Chakotay, B'Elanna, a several others glanced at Gerron, either taken aback or put to shame, by his sympathy for the captain.

B'Elanna opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something, but closed it and swallowed. Chakotay fidgeted with the PADD in his hand, then set it down on the kitchen counter.

"Look," he scanned his crew. "We all knew the risks. We all put our lives on the line. We all knew we might end up dying in prison. They all died for something they believed in. Sveta, and all those back home, they're sitting in their cells, doing work for Starfleet—"

"Just like we're sitting on Voyager," Dalby snarled, "Doing work for Starfleet."

"Yes," Chakotay's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Just like us. But the Federation didn't abandon us like some of us may have thought. Starfleet's at war with Cardassia, and the aliens who helped them do this. The Federation _never _wanted a massacre like this. Sveta tells me Captain Sisko's leading Deep Space Nine and an armada of Federation and Klingon vessels against the Dominion—"

"They'll be avenged." B'Elanna said, with a mixture of sympathy and fierceness. "The Federation won't let them take the quadrant. The whole Alpha Quadrant will give them _hell_ before it's over. And if the war's not done when we get back to Earth, we can help them kill whatever of these bastards are left—"

"B'Elanna!" Chakotay grabbed her arm, and she looked sharply at him, realizing she'd let her emotions run away with her. But beneath the sickened emotions he was feeling inside, there was an odd, peaceful relief, in seeing B'Elanna's newfound faith in the Federation.

Chakotay's dark eyes moved back to the crowd, and his voice was still a bit hard. "The _point_ is, Starfleet may have done us wrong. They may still be doing Sveta and the others wrong. But they aren't abandoning us. And Captain Janeway isn't abandoning us. She hasn't stopped being there for any of us in three years, and she's not about to start. The ones who didn't make it, they died for something they believed in. Michael Eddington, Nira Dal, Roberto Vald…" as Chakotay was speaking his hand had been moving subconsciously around his face, and finally came over his eyes, as they began to water.

B'Elanna's mouth dropped opened, and her folded arms slackened, as Chakotay began shaking, crying silently. She timidly reached out to touch his arm again. Marina Jor got there first, though. The brunette half-Betazoid woman, who was known throughout the ship for her empathy, and like all the Maquis, loved Chakotay as almost a surrogate father, came up behind the commander and hugged him tightly around the waist, tears streaming from her own small eyes. Jor and B'Elanna led Chakotay to a chair, and he sat there with his face in his hands, while they both held him.

B'Elanna, who was crying heavily now, and making no effort to hide it, finally moved away from Chakotay as Tabor pulled her into a hug, his own brown eyes glistening. T'Vora watched silently, alongside Dalby, whose grief seemed beyond tears or want for sympathy. Chell, who was much like the Maquis crew's equivalent of Neelix, took a leaf out of the Talaxian's book, and walked around the room, hugging anyone who looked like they could use it. As soon as Chakotay let his hands drop from his tear-streaked face, Mariah Henley clasped it in her own, squeezing it tightly. He saw B'Elanna moving from one crewmate to another, hugging them or squeezing their shoulders, giving them words of encouragement. Chaktoay's head was still swimming and his belly was still churning, but somehow in his chest he was starting to feel some peace, his heart rate slowing, from what he was seeing.

Wiping his eyes with his free hand, Chaktotay croaked, "I want all of you to promise me something."

Most heads turned in his direction. The few that weren't, he knew—or hoped—were still listening.

"We're not gonna take this out on anyone else on this ship. We're not going to blame Starfleet, or Captain Janeway, or any—"

"Chakotay, why would we blame Captain Janeway?" Chell asked, looking almost hurt by the idea.

Chakotay looked up at the Bolian, then around at the rest of his crew. _His_ crew. He shared them with Kathryn, but they were still his. All faces suggested agreement with Chell. It hadn't even occurred to any of them (with the possible exception of Dalby) to blame the captain, or their Starfleet friends.

"Jorad's wife died," Jor said, releasing her hold on Chakotay. She was referring to the elderly, black, green-uniformed Betazoid, from Janeway's original Starfleet crew. "And Mar—someone else—another friend of mine, her husband killed himself. Two years ago. In part because he thought she was dead." She pushed a brown lock behind her ear. "It's not just us."

B'Elanna shifted where she stood. "Just imagine how some people back home are feeling right now. Anyone related to Voyager's first—_original_ first officer…the helmswoman….the chief engineer…."

Toran, another Bolian, rubbed his temples. "They hear Voyager's still out there, then find out their husband or daughter was killed three years ago…"

B'Elanna shrugged, in a way that almost seemed defeated. "Tough all around I suppose."

Chakotay pushed himself up from the chair. His eyes were still red, but his voice and breathing were calm. "We're still one crew." He moved through the crowd, looking his comrades in the eye. "But _you're_ also still _my _crew." He realized he had no idea where he was going with this, but it seemed to have an effect.

He and B'Elanna stayed in the Mess Hall until 0400 hours, when the last of the other Maqius had dispersed.

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**A/N: I re-watched "Hunters" last night. It's a beautiful episode, and made me cry a bit at several points. But the last scene was extremely aggravating to me. We're not shown anyone informing Janeway that all the former Maquis in her crew will be having a moral crisis. We don't see her provide any sympathy to her best friend about it either. Instead, Chakotay consoles **_**her**_**, about her botched love life. I do love Janeway, but it really annoys me, how "Star Trek" has this obsession with always focusing on the captain, even when it makes no sense. (One big reason I dislike stories with designated protagonists.) **

**So. Anyway. Chakotay and the other Maquis besides B'Elanna didn't get much attention or sympathy in "Hunters," or in the rest of the series, for the bad news they got from home. So I gave it to them all here, in my first ever drabble one-shot. Apologies if it came out cheesy. **

**If you're wondering about the Maquis crewmen I mentioned here, most of them are characters from the actual show. I got information from "Memory Alpha," the Star Trek encyclopedia. However, I did take some liberties. (I have no clue what species Jor is, or what her first name is; I made up the name and species of the old black crewman; etc.) **


End file.
